Another SI, shocker
by CowardlyAuthor
Summary: I'm a novice writer still looking for my niche on this sight. I have a few (mostly) original ideas, so here is my Self Insert. Might not be the best one, but I try. Ugh, Companions? Werwolves? Mildly offensive content? I can't really tag what's inside here. Check it out. Review. I don't own anything.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, welcome to this... Project of mine. Muahahaha! *cough* Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, I felt that the writings I've posted so far are too... Sucky. I'm not a good writer, but I am a Master level reader. I've been lurking on this sight for years! And now that I've said that, I realize just how weird I am. ANYWAY, I'm doing this to just see if I can, maybe see if I'm getting better at this writing thing. It's also 2 in the morning... But really, the authors note might be longer than the actual fic at this point. Here we go!**

 **Warning! If you do not like blood, death, slightly dark themes, kidnapping, or the word 'fuck', please leave now.**

 **(P.S. The SI is not really me, but my mental version of me, who kicks ass)**

 **~Line-Break~**

Backstory time! I really don't know why I feel like I have to do an internal monologue right now, but the urge is too strong. Really weird. Anyway, my name is Morgan, and I'm a 15-17 year old male who lives in the south-eastern area of the U.S. I'm pretty average, nothing special.

Average height, average face, average eyes. Even average hair! I own 4 short sleeve shirts and a single hoodie, blue jeans and some waterproof boots. I carry a knife everywhere I go. I like driving, eating, video games, and hunting. I'm a meat eater, but I can eat my greens just fine. I go to church every Sunday, and most Wednesday nights.

I can fish well, even caught craw dads with nothing but a stick and string once! Same with hunting. I can kill squirrels, rabbits and deer at respectable, if not noteworthy, range. I'm good with most guns at average distance, and I can actually hit the target 7/10 times with a bow.

I'm getting to that awkward age between being a teenager and being an adult where I can still eat twice my body weight, but if I don't exercise I'll get a bit flabby. I'm not fat, but I'm not in shape. I'm not weak, but I'm not that strong. I'm probably not a badass, but I can sure as hell knock someone on their ass!

All in all, to the average eye, I'm pretty normal; with a few quirks that everyone is allowed to have.

However, I'm not that normal. I'm an Internet dweller after all.

I spend more hours on YouTube that Netflix. I look at memes for days on end. I am more than capable of holding my own in a battle of wit and intelligence in the comment sections. But, my greatest pride and my greatest shame, is that I probably read more fanfiction than most 14 year old girls that live in the suburbs.

I'm not gay, though with me being socially awkward people have thought that. I'm into the deep character struggles, the action/adventure! Not fickle romances. Plot, story and lore give me so many ideas and thoughts...

I probably know more than most about fictional lore in things like the Elder Scrolls, Star Wars, and Harry Potter; to name a few. But I have to dumb down my knowledge sometimes. I'm even more awkward on the internet than in real life. On the few occasions I've had conversations about stuff, they usually stop responding when I give one of my theory's or headcannons. It's kind of sad, but I got over it quickly enough.

When you add all of this together, and the fact that I'm left to my thoughts for hours on end thinking on random topics that range from Orc physiology to philosophy, I'm sure that I have at least a few mental health problems.

I always seem to accept and adapt to things others struggle with. Death, people and animals, doesn't effect me much apart from the initial confirmation. Where others mourn for days, sometimes weeks or months, I usually accept it and move on in a few hours, maybe a day. I roll with the punches. Bad car accident? Oh, I'll help you out, what do you need? Need help around the property? Sure, I'll go stick my hand into the hole filled with black widows to turn the water on.

It's strange, how I think compared to others. I know for a fact that I'm not the only one that is like this. There are almost 8 billion people on this earth, I'm probably WAY below average on this level of the weird scale. But the people around me?

I have my slightly quirky but otherwise normal public persona, and then I have the nut job lurker who knows way to many useless facts and memes. It really sounds like I have some kind of mental disorder, now that I think about it...

Well, now that you know me, even if only slightly, how do you think I react to things? What would I do if I was pushed into unexpected situation?

I found myself in just that, right now.

 **~Line-Break~**

I was walking through the woods, checking on the deer stands to make sure they were secured properly to the trees, safety first and all, when it happened. I heard a really loud windy noise, spreading through the trees. I shook my head, ignoring it, and continued on my way. It was unusually loud, but wind was common enough. I glanced around me before heading to the next stand.

At least I would have, if a giant hairy _RAT_ of all things didn't try to attack me.

"What the hell!" I yelled as I took several steps back. I looked at the thing. It was bigger than a cat, colored an oily, greasy black, and had the most disgusting face I had ever seen, with a mouth full of crooked teeth. My examination was cut short when the thing started _tumbling_ towards me! It wasn't even sprinting! It could barely walk, but it wanted to maul me.

Now, I had killed dangerous animals before, but never one that was actively coming after me. I usually just scared them off. But this thing? It was rabid.

It was only a few feet away now, and instinct took over for a few seconds. Right when it got close enough, a few feet away, the thing leapt at me! Only, right after it left the ground, my very heavy thick leather boot, attached to my surprisingly strong leg, hit it right in the face. There was a sharp 'crack' noise, and I knew I had broken it's neck, and probably most of its skull as well. It rolled back a few feet before stopping, dead.

Now that it was dead, I slowly walked over to it. It looked familiar... No. Shit no. It was a skeever! A fictional animal! I got very, very still. I remembered reading a fic that seemed very close to what was happening right now. Except it was a sabertooth (THANK GOD IT WASN'T A SABERTOOTH) and right after it was dead, there... was... a portal...

I, very slowly, turned around. Now that I wasn't focused on the dead creature in front of me, I could feel the strong winds that seemed to tug at my clothes. And right there, was a large dark purple portal. Seconds before I was sucked into it, I muttered what would soon become my catchphrase.

"Aw, fuck."

 **~Line-Break~**

When I woke up, it was with crystal clarity of what was happening. There was no groggy recollection of past events; I knew what happened before I lost consciousness, and what was probably still happening. So, I took a deep breath, and opened my eyes. Observe the situation.

I noticed several things in rapid succession, and they went in this order. I was in a cave. I was in a cage. There were several cages around me. The scent of blood made me want to gag. In some of the cages were werwolves ( _WERWOLVES_!), and they were much, much bigger in person. There were several werewolf heads on pikes around the cave. And finally, there was a really creepy looking guy in blue robes looking over a table that was cluttered with silver daggers, scrolls, and books. I noticed all of these in that order, but almost simultaneously.

When I saw the werwolves, living, breathing, snarling werwolves, a sort of calm came over me. I was a go with the flow kind of person. I could roll with the punches. But this? This was insane, impossible. But I saw it, and something that has happened to me in the past happened again. I don't know the proper term for it, but I think it might be some form of shock.

My brain ignored the impossible nature around me, and focused on what the guy was saying at the table. I couldn't catch a lot, but I could get some.

"Need more subjects... No, more blood, no... That won't work... Maybe Beastfolk? No... Has to be human... Krev will not be happy..." And he mumbled off with that.

Immediately, my mind began turning the new information over. Silver weapons, werwolves in cages, 'Krev' not being happy? I was in Skyrim, held captive by the Silver Hand.

But why? I had to think fast, my shock(?) induced calm only lasted five minutes at the longest. He was a Mage, obviously, and he was someone's scientist (Experimenter? What was the term?). He needed more subjects. Humans. I looked at the werwolves around me, and noticed they all seemed feral, and incredibly thin. Subjects lead to Experiments lead to Results. It's roughly mideval times, so...

I almost laughed. They were trying to figure out a cure! Maybe a spell, or a potion? Would it be a poison? I don't know, but...

My fingers started to feel cold. Numb.

I looked down at my hands and they were just barely starting to shake. I was almost out of time for my rational thought. Shit.

Movement brought my attention back to the wizard (Mage? Necromancer?). He was walking towards me.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not." The magic user started fiddling with a vial. "You just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, little Breton. Don't worry, though," here, he seemed to give a small grin. It was demented and sent a chill up my spine. He uncapped the vial and hit me with a green light from his offhand. Instantly I couldn't move, and my mouth was stuck open. "You will help us destroy these beasts. We will tame the curse long enough to hunt down the wild ones, and then you will die."

My eyes seemed to project the question why well enough, because he chuckled. "Well, Krev needs hounds to hunt the beasts, and what better than a fellow animal?" Here he gave another demented smile. "This little potion I made is composed of Beast Blood, Troll Fat, and Giant Skin. It will make you a slave loyal to us, and make you stronger than the other beasts, so you can hunt them down."

Then he dumped the whole vial down my throat, and I reflexively swallowed when I could move again. Instant _pain_ lanced through my body, boiling my blood and peeling my skin.

Seconds before I lost consciousness, I saw the door blast open and two familiar figures walked in, weapons drawn. Then red seeped into my vision and I couldn't even think.

My last thoughts were, "Aw, _fuck_."

 **~Line-Break~**

 **There. Done. Took me about three hours, which doesn't seem to bad. Will probably leave it at this, unless you want me to continue. Then I'll try to keep writing. Like I said at the top, I'm trying out different writing styles, trying to find my niche.**

 **I've had this idea for awhile, the whole 'Silver Hand making super werwolves to hunt werwolves for them' thing seemed like something they would do. If you're worried about Morgan being overpowered, then you really have nothing to worry about. He's a teenager. From America. In Skyrim. The worst he's experienced is falling off a roof. In Skyrim Dragons kill everything, and Vampires run around doing whatever. Sure, he's a 'super' werewolf, but still.**

 **Btw, I'm using 'Lore Elder Scrolls', not 'Game Elder Scrolls'. Big difference. One of those differences is Shouts destroy mountains if they're strong enough. The Greybeards shake the world when they whisper, Alduin eats the world, and Deadric Princes are evil Demon gods.**

 **Review if you want more. I might make more anyways, but I'm not a consistent writer, so bear with me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I've decided to do this. Don't like this chapter in some parts, and I'm writing on the Notes app of my phone. What that means is the longer the chapter, the more I have to edit when I post this, because I have to change things to bold, italic, and I have to do it all manually. Yup. It sucks. If you guys know a better mobile option, please tell me! My computer doesn't really work, and I don't have a Laptop at the moment. Anyways, I'm super tired. So here. Companions! Tell me if I got their characters right, I haven't played Skyrim in years, and I only did the Companions quest line once. Really hoping to get SE soon, never played it with mods before and it looks fun.**

 **Also, Werwolves kick Vampire ass. (Unrelated, for now...)**

 **~Line-Break~**

I couldn't see anything, just a blood red haze. I could barely even think. The emotions I'm feeling are indescribable. There were emotions I've never felt so strongly.

Anger. Hatred. Bloodlust.

Fear.

I could only feel these things, a slave in my own body. (Was it even my body anymore?)

Slowly, my mind began to come together again. I started to regain consciousness, albeit extremely slowly. The emotions started to weaken, becoming a dull, easily ignorable throb at the back of my mind. The red haze was still there, and when I tried to wipe it away, my mind came under assault.

I was sucked away from my physical body, and put into a rainbow of color and darkness; indescribable. I was attacked by a feral beast, and the attack came from everywhere around me.

I was almost completely defenseless. Almost.

It was my mind, and I had an instinctive advantage here. I recalled everything that had happened before I came here, and knew I was being attacked by the wolf spirit.

I 'curled' up into a ball, but having no physical form at the moment was throwing me off, making me reliant on instinct instead of rational thought. I was protected from the 'clawing' for now, but I could tell it wouldn't hold. I had to do something.

But what? I had no idea HOW the Beast Blood worked, only that to cure it you had to draw the spirit out and defeat it. (This was nothing like the game) But I was in my mind, trapped with it. Could I subjugate it? Make it my slave, become its master? (Where was all the control, the third person?) I was tempted to try, but I also knew that slaves resented and tried to kill their masters. Besides, I probably wouldn't be able to.

I needed to calm it, or expel it from my mind. I knew that magic was real in this world, but I was not a native. For all I knew, I could burn from the inside out if I tried; and I didn't know anything about magic, anyways.

Calming it was it, then. But how? I knew nothing of taming wild animals. And the mental 'strikes' were getting stronger. I could barely think straight! I decided to try reason. It was a creature, and they could 'sense' intentions, right?

'Stop!'

The attacks continued.

'Stop!'

Stronger.

'STOP!'

More powerful.

 _'STOP!'_

More forceful!

 ** _'STOP!'_**

And they stopped.

I slowly 'uncurled' and took in a 'look' of the surroundings. The beast was there, an ever shifting formless mass of instinct and hatred. It coiled and snapped, and seemed to edge closer.

I needed to calm it down, but before I could even think of to how, it struck.

Time seemed to slow. It inched closer and closer, and instinct took over again. I lashed out, not with my voice or my 'hands', but with my mind.

We collided, feral savagery with rational intellect. Boundless anger with artificial calm. We battled, but I was losing.

I was a teenager who never did anything too stressful. It was a beast, an Apex Predator, made to hunt and kill. It was like a glass of water thrown in a bonfire.

But our minds merged. I knew, in that instant, anger, hatred and fear like no other. I knew without a doubt this monster would destroy everything in its path without hesitation. I experienced this hatred like it was my own.

But it also knew me. A laid back teenager, casual. I was smart. Lazy, but smart. I had raw intelligence that everyone told me to use. But I never did. It knew, for that one moment, how to think. It could rationalize and focus that rage.

We became, not one, but very close, for that one moment. And then we separated.

I looked at it. It looked at me. We compromised.

 **~Line-Break~**

Aela knew, knew with all of her heart, that this was a bad idea. She would never admit it, and she knew it was necessary, but it would end badly; her gut was rarely wrong after all.

She and Skjor had tracked a Silver Hand wizard to this cave. After raiding a small encampment, she learned that they were trying to make extremely powerful werwolves to sniff carriers of the Beast Blood out, even in human form. It disgusted her, to see the results of the experiments.

After getting back to Jorrvaskr she tracked down Skjor and together they headed out to put a stop to it. It took them only two days to find the camp, and it was surprisingly underpowered. Only about 13 people in all, and only two of them on guard. Aela and Skjor made short work of them, and entered the cave.

It was a narrow tunnel, and Skor went first. Inside there was only a single hallway, with two open rooms on either side about three-fourths in, and four Silver Hand members clad in light armor, or cloths. They were on break, it seemed. They died fast, not getting a chance to set off an alarm. The only door, at the end of the hall, was made of heavy wood and braced with iron and silver.

They shared a look. Years of combat together had forged a strong bond, and they truly were Shield-Siblings. They formed a plan with nothing but a glance at each other. Together, they kicked down the door and entered.

Just in time to see the Mage pour a vial of Beast Blood and SOMETHING down a young Bretons throat. "No!" Shouted Aela as she drew her bow back. Before she could fire the arrow, however, the Mage pulled a lever, releasing all of the cages. He died shortly after, an arrow in his head.

There were only 3 underfed werewolves they had to deal with, until the boy finished his transformation. Aela drew back a steel arrow, launching the projectile into the throat of one, killing it. Skjor dodged a swipe from another before slicing its leg, and bashing its head when it fell. Now there was only one.

Before it could be dealt with, there was a spine chilling growl. Everyone in the room froze, before turning to the last open cage. Before anyone could react, an unusually large Werwolf _leapt_ out of the cage formerly occupied by the boy, and tackled the last wolf, tearing its throat out with his teeth and clawing out its chest with his claws.

Aela glanced at Skjor, looking for a signal. He gave a nod before shield charging into the beasts back, knocking it over. Aela took this time to quickly remove her armor and shift into her Beast Form. Whatever the Mage had given the boy, it made him too strong to fight easily in such a confined space.

The second the shift was over, she sprinted the short distance and tackled the beast away from Skjor, grappling with it so he would have time to shift.

He was _strong_. Too strong for a new blood whelp. He was bigger than her, though not by much, with thicker arms. After a few seconds of wrestling Aela leapt back, deciding to keep him occupied until Sjor could help subdue him. She was fast, constantly weaving to and fro, biting and swiping at his sides, not to kill, but to distract. The boy-turned-beast was savage, snarling and clawing at her, with wide, slow swipes changing to fast, short ones, biting at every chance. Soon, both were covered in minor wounds that were already healing, Aela much faster than the boy.

Suddenly, a _massive_ Werwolf tackled the boy, and they descended into a rolling pile of teeth and claw for a few moments. After the short battle, Skjor had pinned the boy down, teeth at his neck. Though the boy was unusually large for a wolf his age, Skjor was still significantly taller and stronger. In fact, he had the strongest Beast Form of the Circle, stronger than even Kodlak.

With the boy pinned, the Wolf now had to either go feral and die, or communicate with the human mind inside it to gain enough intelligence to escape. It was rare that the Circle encountered werwolves they didn't kill in conflict, but significantly less rare that they found a new blood on their first transformation. This was a tactic that usually worked, but it might also fail.

Slowly, the rage left the beasts eyes, and he transformed back, naked and unconscious, but alive and relatively unharmed. Skjor and Aela also transformed, and went to get their armor to cover their forms.

After a few minutes, they gathered around the boy. Aela observed him. He was strange, she would admit that. He had fair skin, brown hair, and was only lightly muscled but had potential for the sword-and-shield combo, maybe a bow. He was around 16, maybe 17. No scars, except the quickly healed scratch marks he gained in his short fight with them. That reminded her of a dull throbbing on her left arm, and when she looked the huntress hid a grimace. The boy got her good, she would admit.

The sound of boots made her turn around to Skjor, only to find him giving her a neutral stare.

"Oh, don't be like that, Skjor! He was lively, for a newblood, and a whelp at that! I was curious to see who could give us at least a minor challenge." She said, crossing her arms. Skjor's expression didn't change. Aela sighed, "Alright, watch him, I'm going to find out what they did to the boy."

Skjor gave a grunt and a nod, before staring at the boy, waiting for him to wake up. Aela new it would be a few hours, at least, because the first transformation was always the hardest. Sparing one last look at the whelp, she walked over to the table littered with knives, books and scrolls.

After a quick search, she found emerald books on Conjuration magic, with notes on summoning. 'Well, that's how he was getting the poor souls for his experiments.' She thought. After more searching, she found a journal, with an inkwell and recently used quill. Aela gave a sigh of relief before opening it to read.

 _'Tirdas, 3 Morning Star, 4E 200_

 _Today marks excellent progress. I have made extreme improvements of my summoning ritual, and am not limited to the local populace for my experiments. I will bring in a new subject later today, and use a new mixture of Beast Blood and Alchemy, to see if I can make one stronger or more durable. I've mixed a very rare and powerful Strength Potion with the Blood of one of the stronger subjects. I've also used Troll and Giant parts, to see if I can increase their magic resistance. Maybe I'll summon a Breton? I'll proceed with the experiment tomorrow. I need them awake and the summoning always knocks them out for a day._

 _I need to make more progress, Krev is getting impatient and is soon ready to scrap this whole idea! It took too long to get him to agree, and I'm getting so much information on these animals! This data is amazing. The animals have incredible strength even in their human forms, and I've had to start reinforcing the cages with steel, because they bend the iron when they turn for the first time._

 _So far I've only summoned Nords and Imperials, maybe if I use an Elf sacrifice I'll get a Breton? I wonder what that races natural magic resistance would do when the shift? Would they get stronger, or would they burn the Blood out, dying? I need to get right on that! I only have one more summoning sacrifice, and I need to use it now, the ritual will expire soon._

 _I will summon a subject now, and finish the experiment tomorrow, I think Krev is going to cut this off soon.'_

Aela was disgusted that a human being could do something so horrible. The Mage was messing with dangerous things, to experiment with Werwolf Blood. But, she considered, the information in the journal painted a useful picture. The boy, when he woke up, would be incredibly strong. If the journal was correct, then the whelp would be faster, stronger, more durable and magic resistant than average. He would be a great warrior.

But first, Aela looked around the room with a sneer, she and Skjor had to destroy the camp. Aela saw a cabinet, and after checking inside she found a few spare cloths. Grabbing a shirt and pants, she walked back over to Skjor and the boy.

She threw them at Skjor, saying "Put these on him," before cleaning up the camp. First she got rid of the bodies, calling in some wolfs and scavengers, and then she grabbed the journal and most of the books.

When she came back inside, she found Skjor with the whelp over his shoulder, ready to depart. "Come, Shield-Brother! We need to get back to Jorrvaskr!" Aela said. Skjor nodded, more silent that usual.

And with that, they left for Whiterun.

 **~Line-Break~**

I was... Warm? I could feel the freezing cold wind all around me, even feel snow beneath me; why was I warm?

I also felt like I got hit by a truck, jumped off a building, then went five rounds with Chuck Norris.

"Ah," an unfamiliar but also familiar voice said, "he's awake! Skjor, get him some food."

I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Then the second. Then I almost shit my pants.

In order, I saw billions of stars, twinkling and glowing against a backdrop of nothing, blanketed with an Aurora so bright and colorful I felt like I had lived blind before this. Then I saw a drop dead redhead, wearing face paint and some kind of sexy warrior cosplay that showed some appreciated cleavage (I was a teenager, hormone imbalance was my excuse and I was sticking to it!). Then I saw the biggest guy I had ever seen. He was 6'8, _at least_. And he was all bulky muscle, he looked like he could wrestle a bear! He was wearing heavy looking steel that looked heavier than me. He reached over and handed me some jerky.

I reached out hesitantly. My arm shook badly and it took all my willpower to keep it steady enough take the snack. I looked at the two of them, to the fire, to the massive wilderness under the most beautiful sky I had ever seen, and sighed.

"So," I began. "What happened?"

The woman, who looked so familiar, gave a small laugh. "Oh, poor whelp, you're a Werwolf now. You were experimented on by a wizard. We," she gestured to herself and the walking mountain, "saved you." She gave me an expectant look.

I looked down at my form, covered in only thin, uncomfortable clothes, not even wearing shoes (those were my favorite boots), and then at the frozen land around me. I gave a small nod, sat back, and got comfy. Then I looked at them, and said my catchphrase.

"Fuck."

Then I closed my eyes to think. (I did not faint!)

 **~Line-Break~**

 **Ok, next chapter! I really need to work on my other stuff, but I think I'll put them on hold. The SI idea is surprisingly easy to wright. I think I'll put the other stuff on hold for now, maybe continue this. Don't forget to review! I need ideas if this is to continue. Do you guys think Morgan should follow Aela and Skjor, or should he strike out on his own? He's definitely going to try magic, maybe make his own stuff. (Jedi are cool, but Sith shoot lightning!)**

 **For you guys wondering, Morgan is now a Proto-Wolf. I call him that because of the unique alchemical mixture added to the Beast Blood that turned him. His stats are boosted, and he's got that Plot Armor taking care of his figure so he doesn't have to constantly work out. I'm lazy, so what? Basically, think of a teenager with only basic fighting abilities that can punch through brick and is 50% resistant to magic.**

 **I want to say Morgan is level 15, on Lengendary, and everyone else is level 40 on average. He could kick the shit out of a lot of people, but he's got no weapons. And no fighters instinct. And no magic. And no shoes. I really liked those boots.**

 **Really, all he's got is strength, healing, and enough sarcasm to make Spidey jealous.**

 **Anyway, that's enough. It's going to take me hours to add in all the bold, italics, and, well, everything. I don't know how beta reading works, especially since I do this from my phone, so I do this all on my own.**

 **See you next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

SI #3

Ok. Ok. I can do this! My head is throbbing, I can barely see, but I can do this! Really not feeling well right now. Also still on my phone. I think I'll take time with this one, wait for more reviews to come in. Sure, I've only gotten 2 so far, and none with story ideas, but they'll come eventually! I'm optimistic. Not sure if you noticed, but I put the date in the last chapter. It's currently Morning Star the third, 200. (That's January 3rd, I looked up Tamrielic time, God I'm a nerd) About 1 and a half years before Helgen gets flattened by the Nordic God of Destruction. Very sad. Wonder what the DB is up to?

P.S. I'm not editing this anymore. I'm tired of spending hours just making the authors notes in bold. Deal with it. It also means there will be no italics.

~Line-Break~

I didn't faint! I was just thinking. In my head. While asleep. In shock.

...

Fine, I was knocked unconscious due to stress. That's what happened. Yeah, stress...

Anyway, let's look at the facts. I need to take advantage of 'dream time', which make me immune to shock and impossibilities. (This doesn't sound like science...)

Fact one, I can kick a dog sized rat in the face hard enough to kill it. Fact two, I can survive inter-dimensional travel, which sounds very painful. Fact three, I'm a werewolf.

...

That's... Neat? Werewolves are way better than Vampires, short term at least. And they suit my usual play style. But if I'm really in Skyrim...

Shit. Shitty shit fuck. I'm in SKYRIM. Dragons are about, Vampires are coming out to eat everyone, HOUSES ARE BEING BUILT! And there are evil demon gods. Can't forget that.

Well, Meridia isn't evil.

If I'm here, I need to get back home.

...

Later. I'll get back home later. (Time to pull a Deadpool!) Now I know what you're thinking, 'Morgan, why don't you try to get home as soon as possible, don't you care?'

Yes, I do care. But I'm a werewolf. In SKYRIM. I can be anyone. A Mage, a Warrior! A thief! And the two people who rescued me were Aela and Skjor! Man, she was way hotter in person, too.

Back on track. Some cave dweller (hehe) Mage summoned me, if I get to the College of Winterhold, they could easily send me back. But to get there, I need to not die instantly. I may have (presumed) incredible strength now (and senses? What happened to me? I sense a montage in the near future!), but an Orc could probably rip me in two without even trying. And there were lizard people. And cat people.

At least I'm here, and not in Game of Thrones. I wouldn't even get rescued there.

So. I need a plan. For now, I'll stick with the two Companions, maybe see if they can give me some pointers on how to not die here. When we get to Whiterun, I'll see if I can do magic (SITH LIGHTING HERE I COME!) and maybe see exactly when I am. I only know what's coming if I'm before it happens, after all. The Companions will probably want to keep a close eye on me, so I'll need to be carful, no talking to myself.

And they called me Breton. I didn't think I was that short... Maybe I got a new body? God I hoped not, that would make my ongoing existential crises even worse. But, I considered, the magic resistance would be useful.

If I don't die.

This is gonna suck until I adjust. Which will take a few weeks. Dramatic sigh.

Fuck.

~Line-Break~

Aela and Skjor looked over the Bretons form. She turned to Skjor. "Is this supposed to happen?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Let's just hope he doesn't wake till morning." Aela gave a slow nod.

After a few minutes of silence, Aela broke the quiet. "Skjor, is something wrong?" She asked, concerned. The warrior stopped poking at the fire.

He gave a sigh. "What are we going to tell Kodlak, Aela? That we went Silver Hand hunting? We're on thin ice already. I don't want to make conflict in the Circle worse." He said. Skjor seemed genuinely, not upset, but slightly concerned. "You know we're not supposed to hunt down the Silver Hand." He continued. "It only increases their hatred."

Aela scoffed. "Oh, now you're sounding like a milk-drinker. We stopped inhumane experiments on innocent people. We saved a young newblood! We did the right think, and Kodlak will accept that." She said. Aela was very passionate, especially on a hunt.

Before they could continue, the sound of breathing change alerted their sensitive ears. They turned in unison to the boy, seeing that he was waking up.

The boy, whose name they still didn't know, cracked open an eye. He glanced around, stared at the two moons for a good minute, then sat up.

"So," he said. "What happens now that I've got a flea problem?"

Skjor grunted before turning back to the fire, ignoring him. Aela just barked out a laugh.

"Oh, this is going to be fun, Whelp!" She said. "My name is Aela and this is Skjor." She waved to the mini-giant. The Breton gave a slow nod.

"Well, my name is Morgan, and I don't really remember anything besides you telling me I'm a werewolf." The boy, now known as Morgan, said with a grin. He gave a small laugh. "Where are we right now?"

Aela gave the boy a look, studying his form, how he acted. Morgan suppressed a shiver, and not the good kind. She gave a nod, saying "You're in Skyrim, land of the Nords. We are members of the Companions, a group of warriors that are based in Whiterun."

"Now," she continued, "you need to sleep, heal. The first transformation is not the best. We will explain more in the morning, when we brake camp."

Morgan gave a nod, before drifting back to sleep.

Aela looked at Skjor. Skjor looked at Aela. "No." Aela said, laying down for bed.

Skjor understood. He got first watch.

~Line-Break~

The morning came too quickly, especially to me. I was lazy. Very, very lazy. Waking up was a long 15 minute process followed by a long hot shower to get the fog out of my eyes.

Here, I was kicked in the side with a metal boot.

"Aarrhh!" I yelled as I leapt up, fist swinging. Skjor gave a grunt of surprise as he got punched right in his stupid armored chest, taking a step back.

I, meanwhile, was busy nursing my (probably) broken hand. I looked at my fist. It was purple and bleeding. "Ow." I said, in the most monotone voice I could manage.

Aela threw something at me, and I caught it reflexively (Is this what superpowers are like?). "Drink that." She said, before going back to whatever she was doing.

I looked at the bottle in my good hand. It was red, and about the size of a small mug. With a start I realized it was a health potion. Hesitantly, because I had read health potions sucked more than once, I opened it and gave it a sniff.

Aela laughing drew my attention away from the bottle. She was laughing at me! "What's so funny?" I asked.

If anything she laughed even harder. Hell, even Skjor was laughing? What?

"Ah," Aela finished her cackling (CACKLING!), wiping a tear from her eyes. "You don't sniff potions unless you want to forget about the next month, Whelp." Oh.

Hastily, I pulled the bottle away from my face, but the sudden movement jerked my hand. Huh, weird. My pain tolerance was never this high. Maybe it was a werewolf thing.

"Anything else?" I asked dryly.

Aela shook her head and gave one last chuckle before finishing up with camp. I took a deep breath an downed the whole thing in one go.

And immediately wished I hadn't. It was like liquid lightning was racing through my body, searching, until it found my hand. Then it concentrated there, burning like fire; I could feel the bones snapping back into place, popped blood vessels regrowing. It was very painful, but I couldn't even react because it was over in a second.

"Woah." I settled for. Aela gave a nod, since when was she right next to me?

"Yes," she said. "The first potion is always the worst. They have to alter your body, so you don't die from the healing and ingredients. Cures for poison and disease are the worst, but we don't have to worry about them, do we?" She finished with a grin.

I gave a nod, thinking. I needed answers. Real answers.

I had a slight hesitation, only half a second, before I spoke.

"What does it mean to be a werewolf?" Immediately, Aela and Skjor grew somber.

Aela seemed to be the more vocal of the two, because she started talking first. "Werewolves are Lord Hircine's blessed. We have incredible strength, stamina, healing and durability. We are powerful warriors, but our strongest ability is Shifting into our wolf form." Here she seemed to, not hesitate, but grew more careful in her words. "Those of the Beast Blood are restless, and will never find comfort in sleep. Our instincts are stronger, we prefer our meat rare, and we hunger for the Hunt. I regularly hunt, both in my Beast and Human forms. We lust for blood, and if you are not careful, you will lose control and become feral." She ended with a time of warning.

I gulped. Man, she was intimidating...

"So I guess I need practice?" I asked, trying to shift the conversation somewhere else.

I did NOT like the gleam in Aela's eyes at that moment. What she said next would scar me forever.

"Yes, how about a race?"

~Line-Break~

Sorry it took so long, but here it is, the next chapter! I'm currently working on another story, it's Skyrim again. I'm still only in the first chapter, but I think I'll write till maybe chapter 10 before posting them. (Hint: How do you feel about Dishonored?)

Sorry, again, that it took so long. And sorry this has no BOLD. It takes so long to edit this, because I'm doing it from my phone and I have to manually change it in the safari tab. It's hard, man. So I'm just not doing it anymore.

Next chapter might come sooner or later, not sure yet. I WILL finish this, even though it is getting harder to write. Review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Well. This is awkward. At least I didn't disappear for 6 months? Anyway, I'm back baby! Are you ready for kickass werewolf fight scenes? Well you won't find them here!**

 **Still suck at dialog, not even gonna try anymore. Let's go!**

 **~Line-Break~**

It was a peaceful day. The birds were chirping, Giants were roaming with their Mammoths, deer and elk grazed without fear, a half naked teenager ran away from a pack of wolves screaming, a young fox chased some butterflies...

Yes. It was just another normal day in Skyrim.

 **~Line-Break~**

"I REGRET MY DECISION!" I yelled as I ran from the hungry hungry wolves. I really did, why did I have to goad Aela on like that? Seriously, why!?

When she said race I thought she meant me against her, not her calling in a pack of hungry predators! This sucked!

As I ran I saw a fairly large tree stump in front of me, right before a tree with some low branches. I quickly made a plan, praying that my Beast Blood actually improved me enough to do this.

As I approached the stump, I leapt on top of it, teeth nipping at my heels, and used the increased height to jump. I underestimated my legs, however, and instead of just barely catching the bottom branch, I smacked face first into the trunk. I let out a pained groan as I slid down, directly onto a fairly thick branch. The wolves stalked around the base of the tree, letting out growls and snarls as I caught my breath, before leaving the area.

After a few minutes I used to regain my breath, I was about to jump down. I hesitated, before tilting my head slightly and giving a small sniff. There, I could smell them, lurking in the bushes just out of my sight.

With the knowledge they were still there, I got a little more comfortable in my new tree, pondering my abilities. The 'race' was a good test, though I would never admit it to Aela. I was very, very strong now.

I would say I'm around the level of Captain America physically, from the MCU. He's strong, fast, durable, but not extremely so. I could run, maybe 18 miles per hour? I was keeping away from the wolves, but my human body allowed me greater mobility. I could also jump high into a tree, so definitely some kind of super strength.

I decided to try and get used to my new senses. Sometimes they were overpowering. I gave their air a sniff, and almost gagged at the stench from a decomposing carcass a little ways away. After regaining control of myself, I tried to focus on something else. I smelled flowers, lavender, wet dog, bark, grass; hundreds of smells and sensation that I was only vaguely aware of before now were almost punching me in the face! How was I going to get used to this?

Oh well, practice made perfect, right?

...

I was going to die in this land.

 **~Line-Break~**

After I spent half an hour in the tree, Aela came to get me. Apparently, the plans had changed. Instead of going to Whiterun, Skjor would go while Aela took me with her on a short training travel. According to her, 'newbloods' had bad control so it would be dangerous to head to a big city like Whiterun.

Instead, we would be ruffing it out in the woods for a few weeks, until Aela would ditch me to go back to the Companions. Then I would be on my own.

Hey, it wasn't too bad. Trial by fire, right?

 **~Line-Break~**

"This will be a good test," she said, as we stared at a small camp. It only had 3 people in it, all armed with a single sword and leather with furs. One of them had a shield.

"How is this a test? You're sending me into a bandit camp half naked with no weapons!" I said as loud as I could while still being quiet. It was still only the level of a normal whisper, but with the past few days I've had to learn my senses, it was the equivalent of talking sort-of-loud right next to someone's ears for Aela; uncomfortable and petty, just as I liked it. She gave me a Look, one that I knew meant no more arguments.

As I have a silent groan, I slipped away, trying to decide if I would, or even _could_ , kill the bandits. The past few days had been spent with me running, jumping, and getting attacked by random animals. Sometimes Aela would start punching at me, and while my limited martial arts experience helped, I still got pretty bruised.

Just yesterday, Aela found out about a small group of bandits. They were harassing small time merchants and travelers. It would only be a matter of time before some adventurer or another killed them, but so far they were proving a nuisance. Our, or rather _my_ , job was to eliminate them. Aela wouldn't even try, they'd probably be dead before I could even notice if she wanted to.

I decided to go the non-lethal, stealthy approach. If The Last of Us had taught me anything, these filler enemies were incredibly stupid. So as I got to the edge of their camp, I picked up a small rock and gently tossed it over to a bush on the other side, hoping to distract them for a moment.

However I misjudged my strength, again, and instead of going to the bush, it hit a bandit drinking from a mug in the back of the head. Oops, I guess my aim sucked? Why couldn't superpowers fix that!

My mind went into overdrive. Time slowed down. Spartan Time. No, wait, wrong franchise. Time sped back up, and suddenly I was sprinting top speed at the one sitting in the chair by the table. The one I hit with the rock was turning around, and the guy with the shield at the fire was staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.

And right as the guy in the chair turned enough to see me, my fist hit him in the face like an angry god. Not really, but there was a loud thumping noise as he flew to the ground. And my hand hurt. And then I heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed behind me.

On instinct I grabbed the, now empty, chair in front of me and swung it around, holding it as a makeshift shield. The guy (a Nord I think?) had gone with a thrust, which implanted the sword through the chair and very, very close to my gut. I looked him in the eye before twisting the chair clockwise, putting his arm into a makeshift lock, before leaning over the pincushion and palm striking his elbow, making sure to follow through with the push. With a loud _POP_ his arm bent the other way, and I was startled to find I held a dark joy in his pain.

I was so focused on his screaming I almost missed the sound of sizzling; like bacon on a pan. Confused, I dropped the chair and turned around. Then I almost shit my pants. The one with the shield was hanging back, said defense tool protecting his body while his other hand charged up f _ucking lightning!_

 _Now_ time slowed down. I forgot magic existed, which was shameful. But I had bigger things to worry about. Thankfully this low-level nimrod sucked, because he was taking a while to charge up. Or it was super powerful. Either one, really.

Remembering something, I crouched as I turned around. I had some incredible luck, it seemed, because a sword passed right where my head used to be. I blinked, almost not even registering I almost died, before punching the sword guy with a quick one-two face-gut combo, before grabbing his broken arm and pulling him in front of me.

I was not a moment to soon, because the second I turned the poor guy got hit center-mass with a lightning bolt. I quickly let go, mentally hoping it wasn't Chain Lightning, trying to not get second hand damage. My makeshift shield worked, and with that I charged the shield-spell.

He seemed to panic, probably because he just saw a kid kick his friends asses, and took a fortifying step forward to aid his shield swing. I was caught off guard, and took the full hit to the face. My forehead split slightly, and my ears were ringing, but I was mostly fine. He hit me in the hardest part of my head. I responded by grabbing his shield in one hand, and used my superhuman strength to pull him into my fist. I nailed him right in the jaw, and I had no doubt he was seeing stars.

As he went down, I pulled the shield off his arm, thinking I could use it later. Then I got hit with a mighty swing from a thick tree branch, right in the back of the head.

When I was younger, I got into some accidents. Some sports related, some my own stupidity. One of them happened not once, but three times. I happened to walk too close to the batter at a baseball game. Two of the hits were backswings, but one was full swing to my forehead. They were metal bats, and it hurt like hell, but I survived. But they were from kids, and I got concussions.

What just hit me was from a fully grown, vaguely athletic man, holding a 2 pound (0.907 kilogram) branch. I was augmented, so I was hardier than normal, but still. That fucking hurt.

I saw stars, but the sound of the stick breaking was relieving. It meant he didn't have a weapon. I recovered as fast as I could, stumbling forward to gain some room. As my vision cleared, I saw the guy to be the one I first punched. I was surprised, I thought I knocked him out? He put his full strength behind the swing, and he got hit hard, so he was still recovering. I moved as quickly as I was able towards him, giving him an uppercut to the chin to grab his attention. His head jerked back, but he still sent out a jab that caught me in the shoulder as I tried to dodge. I responded with a right hook, stunning him. I took that to the bank, grabbing his hair before slamming his head down onto my rising knee. It hurt more than I expected, which sucked. He still wasn't down, so I gave him a rock solid hit to his gut, before using my hand to make a two pincered 'claw' and gripped the back of his neck. From this position I slammed his head down onto the table.

His head broke through the center of the table, and he slumped there with his body hanging over it. Mage guy was face first in the dirt, and I couldn't tell if he was dead. The one with the broken arm was a piece of charcoal, still smoking in the wind.

I stumbled from the camp, shield hanging on my arm. I was tired enough that I didn't notice the gleam that entered Aela's eyes, or the spark of interest in the eyes of the being hidden high up in the branches, watching with interest.

 **~Line-Break~**

 **Wow. I did not expect that. Also didn't lie, there were no Werewolves in this chapter. This has been sitting for weeks, and I'm so sorry I couldn't get this out sooner. I'm still on my phone, but I'm currently in the car, driving a several hour trip to South Carolina. Don't know when the next one will be out, could be delayed, could be quick.**

 **Tell me what you thought of the fight scene! I worked hard on it, and I tried to get 'brawler' across well enough. I like to think I fight like Joel, from the Last of Us (best game ever made). But, you know, not as cool. Or awesome. Or badass. I really wish I had his beard, too. Basically I want to be Joel. I would endure the apocalypse for that. No joke. He defines BAMF (Bad Ass Mother Fucker). Ellie's pretty cool too. And by pretty cool I means fucking badass as all hell.**

 **(Is it clear that I have a crush on this game yet? It's just perfect in every way)**

 **If you think this chapter is two different ones badly melded together, you're not wrong. I wrote these 'halves' almost 2 weeks apart. Very different. I think I'm getting better, so let's continue!**

 **Review, and try to guess what's going to happen next! Who was that mysterious figure? What is Aela planning? Will Goku be strong enough to beat this new enemy? Er, wrong thing. (I totally did not steal that from one of the best authors on this site, totally).**

 **See you next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A new chapter!? From the Cow!? Man, I need a better username... Cowardly Author doesn't really give any cool nicknames. Anyway, new chapter! A bit of a time skip, but not too long. Only a day or two.**

 **Let's hope for more than one review this time!**

 **~Line-Break~**

Apparently I sucked. Better than Aela expected, but I still sucked. So after beating the shit out of those bandits she made me spar with her.

And by spar, I mean she'd randomly attack me, sometimes with her knife, and I'd have to try and fight back. Try being the key word. The only time I even got close to winning was the time I grabbed a big branch on the ground and started twirling it around like a ninja, and then smacking her right in the face with it while she was distracted.

She broke the stick in half and started beating me with said halves, but it was worth it. She did ask where I learned it, and I told her the truth. Mostly. It was kind of hard to say that I watched a lot of ninja movies and started to randomly twirl broomsticks one day, so I gave a vague answer about a relative showing me. I don't think she bought it, but Aela didn't pry, either.

After seeing that I wasn't totally helpless in combat, she said I was ready to practice my 'true power.' So tonight I was going hunting with her, in Beast Form.

I hope I don't eat anyone.

 **~Line-Break~**

It was going on now. In a few minutes, I would shed my weak human form. I would transcend my mortal limits! I would hunt, and fight with the strength of a hundred men! I would be INVINCIBLE! I would-

"Strip." Huh?

Aela looked at me like I was an idiot, something she did occasionally. Oh, I still hadn't responded.

"Strip? Are you kidding me, it's freezing!" I said, giving her my best incredulous look. I don't think it worked, I'm not good at expressions.

Aela gave a long, sad sigh, mumbling something along the lines of "stupid boy" before loudly explaining in an exaggerated manner.

"Shifting alters our forms. Our clothing will rip if we don't strip. You don't have many cloths, so lose them." And with that she started taking off her armor.

I stared, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. The only reason I continued to stare after 3 seconds (that's how long it took me to memorize the image) was because Aela gave me an amused glance. Thankfully it was cold-as-fuck so I didn't show much. I burned the image into my mind for a solid 8.5279 seconds before turning around and taking my cloths off. Hey, it was cold, and I didn't want the Huntress to think lowly of me. I had my teenage ego to worry about.

Unfortunately, I didn't know what to do next. How do you transform into a big hairy rage monster?

"Hey, uh, Aela? I-It's getting p-pretty c-cold-d, how do I t-t-transform?" I asked, my teeth starting to chatter. My body shook slightly, almost unnoticeable. For me that was very bad, I could stand out in the snow for hours without being too uncomfortable. It was really, really cold out.

"We all have our own triggers. Figure it out." Aela replied. I turned around, incredulous, but froze. It was cold. Aela was naked. Two things were standing at attention. A third was coming up to join them.

I panicked, wracked my brain for a solution, and came up empty. I didn't want to be embarrassed; I was a teenager, still "growing" in some areas. Thinking quickly, I blindly "reached" inside myself.

Instantly, I felt a pain overcome me. I hunched over, my skin tingled. Thousands, millions of thick, short hairs erupted all over my body. My bones seemed to snap, before partially melting and solidifying in a new position. My muscle fibers un-bound themselves, realigning in a new, more powerful, structure. My face elongated, and grew wider, teeth shifted from omnivorous to carnivorous, my nose shifted and grew hundreds of different smelling glands. My ears seemed to slide to the top of my skull, standing on end, while the inside grew extremely sensitive. I could now hear something from 7 miles away in the open fields of Whiterun. My tongue changed, got longer, my tastebuds shifted. My eyes seemed to roll through their sockets, and when they realigned the were much more powerful, beyond perfect vision. My spine hunched slightly, and my arms lengthened, hands ending in razor sharp claws. I instinctively dropped on all fours. My legs changed shape, and my feet became more like paws, allowing me great traction and turning when on two feet.

I looked into the sky, straight at the twin moons. My neck hairs stood on end as I raised my head to give a mighty howl.

I was interrupted from my drama, however, by Aela. She strode up next to me, her form slightly smaller than mine (which was weird because we were the same height), colored black but seeming to gleam red in the moonlight. With my powerful senses I knew she could defeat me, and against my will I lowered myself to the ground, submitting.

'Well that's embarrassing.' I thought. I quickly regained control of myself, standing on two legs. I stumbled slightly, and my tail (that's a little weird) stuck out, keeping my balance.

Aela snorted, and I felt a brief pressure in my skull, before her voice resonated in my mind.

"Your instincts are stronger than most, and that will help as much as hinder you." Something in my body language clued her into my shock.

"The more experienced werewolves can use telepathy in our Beast Forms. Soon, you will learn it as well. But for now, get used to your new body. We will run, get warmed up before hunting." And with that, she turned and walked away from me.

Suddenly, she gave me a sly look, something I didn't know was possible in a Beast Form. "It's an interesting trigger, I'll admit. Later, you'll need something other than me to transform, however. Stripping nude in a battle would be very... Cumbersome." And with that she took off into a sprint.

Well. Shit.

...

Wait, did she say 'later' just now?

 **~Line-Break~**

My Beast form was... interesting. I was incredibly fast, more so than any horse; I could go easily 55 MPH (88 KMH) in a straight line over open ground. My senses were even more powerful, but I didn't have any trouble with them, which was weird. I could see into the darkest shadows, hear the heartbeat of a rabbit a mile and a half away, and smell Aela's tantalizing scent almost a quarter mile away; right next to an elk, herding it to me.

After spending a few hours running around, and doing some light 'play fighting' to get me accustomed to my form, Aela said we would hunt. She went out, tracking an elk, and would lead it to me. It was my job to stay hidden long enough to make the kill.

I asked why we couldn't just chase it down, being extremely fast and all, but Aela said something about not wanting to waste energy. I just thought she had a sadistic hunting fetish. Not that I would ever say that. No way in hell, err, Oblivion.

We had already practiced a few times, on rabbits for a snack. Strangely enough, the raw meat and blood didn't bother me like it should have. Another thing that I noticed was I was far more physically... Affectionate is too strong a word. I like to think I'm pretty stoic (even though I know I'm really more sarcastic, and I've been called a smart ass more than once), but when I'm in this form I can't seem to help myself from making ridiculous (to my mind) noises, and I even rubbed against Aela! That was embarrassing. Again.

My musings were interrupted as my sensitive ears twitched. I heard them coming; they were extremely close now. I got into a ready stance, making sure to stay downwind and in the shadows. Quickly, they approached seeing distance. Aela was sweeping side to side, sometimes getting close enough to give a small scratch. The elk was massive; if I were in a human form I could stand in its antlers!

When it was only 10 meters away, I sprinted at it at my top speed. It saw me, or heard me, and instead of changing direction like I expected, it lowered its antlers towards me and gained speed, ready to gore me! I slowed down minutely, and when we were as close as I dared, I grabbed the rack as close to the base as I could before pulling them up. The whole head of the elk was thrown up, leaving its neck unprotected.

I didn't even think, sinking my teeth into its throat, biting down with bone crushing force. The blood wasn't revolting like I expected. The taste didn't change, still that thick and hot metallic copper, but it was oddly enjoyable. It was a strange experience.

With its neck crushed and bleeding heavily, the elk let out a pathetic whimper that brought out a dark satisfaction from the back of my mind before dying. I released my bite, hearing Aela come up to me.

"A clean kill!" She appraised. Her lupine form seemed to exude pleasure, from what I couldn't quite see.

"But you could use more practice in your footwork. I heard you stomping around." Aela continued. My form sagged for half a moment, before I shook it off and resolve filled my being.

"Now, time to eat!" She exclaimed excitedly. And with that she dove into the carcass, almost literally.

I hesitated, would I really do this? The smell was heavenly, which was more than a little disturbing.

'Oh well, when in Rome...' I thought as I stalked towards my kill.

I never noticed the small bit of darkness that leapt from the shadow of a root, burrowing into my fur.

 **~Line-Break~**

Not so far away, hidden underneath multiple Illusion spells to mask their presence, a shadowy figure observed the feasting werewolves. A sharp, dark grin was concealed by his cowl as he placed several spell books into the young Bretons bag. Soon, his master would make her move. Soon, they would be feared again.

After all...

We know.

 **~Line-Break~**

 **Whew, that felt way longer than it probably was. Anyway, what do you think? I'm playing around with werewolves, finally, and there was a bit of a hunting scene. I'm not satisfied with a lot of it, but yeah. Here it is.**

 **Wonder who that figure was? What could they be planning? Is it as ominous as I intended? Will our hero ever stop thinking with his dick? The world may never know. I could die before posting this, or be put in the hospital, or win the lottery!**

 **Truly, life is mysterious.**

 **Anyway, don't forget to review! I'll try to get more out soon, but I can't make chapters if I don't have ideas! Seriously, unless ff is fucked up again I only have 10 reviews while also having around 500 reads. That's crazy. Anyway, review please.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Ah, Christmas. Nothing better than free stuff from family and strangers who you sometimes forget are alive. On the up side, I'm finally old enough to appreciate socks. God, socks are awesome.**

 **Skyrim SE would be cool, too, but I digress.**

 **Anyway, happy holidays! Hope you had fun, and for those few people that had a sucky time; my extended apologizes. Now that that's over with, let's get this thing started!**

 **I'm gonna try to do a long one here, but it still won't be how long I want it to be. (What I would want is 10k words, but I can barely do 2. I need improvement)**

 **(As usual, there are curse words. Maybe I should change the rating?)**

 **~Line-Break~**

The next two weeks were a blur. I remembered them with a crystal clarity that was almost inhuman, if I was honest, but they passed so quickly. Despite how fast they seemed to pass, those weeks were not useless; instead it seemed like I went through an anime training montage.

At the end of it, I could fight Aela on somewhat even terms; if she actually tried I would be dead literally before I could react, she was so fast. And even then, it was mostly my new shield that improved my fighting ability. With me sucking hard at stabby things, what with my lack of skill with them, I was actually more dangerous with just my fists.

And my knife, and God Almighty was that a find. Aela gave it to me shortly after my 'first' transformation. Apparently she found it in the cage along with my torn clothing. The 18" (12" blade) SOG Kukri machete was my salvation. It wasn't really a combat weapon, more of a utility tool, but I hadn't been so happy to see it since I got it last Christmas. The saw back blade was very useful in getting firewood, as well.

It also made me shut down for a few minutes, because it was confirmation that I wasn't Home anymore. Aela's concern drew me back out, and I sucked it up; I could cry when I was in some cave.

My actual hand-to-hand ability went from "brawler" to "brawler that can take a punch." I didn't know what to expect, maybe some long lost martial art or something. Not 'beat it with you fists until it's dead.' Still, now that I wasn't tripping on my own feet, and my Blood gave me literally killer instincts, I enjoyed fighting. Not killing, which didn't make me sick like I expected, but fighting.

The fact that I actually _killed_ someone, that was... interesting. Not in the way that I could, but that I didn't throw up, or cry, or become a bloodthirsty lunatic, like literally every piece of fiction I've ever read. It might have been my Beast Blood, which was changing me more than I initially thought, or it might be that I was a more fucked up person than I believed. Hell, it could have been the _actual fucking magic in the air._

So yeah, it could have been any of those. Getting back to my improvements, my physical stats skyrocketed after my transformation. I was above a 'normal' civilian like Aela was above me; almost too fast to see and _hit like a goddamn truck_. In fact, I'd bet I was the same as a Halo Spartan in pure physical ability. My form was awful, and even a normal merc could kill me with skill, but it was something.

But it was my magic that really got me grinning. When we got back to our clothes after the Hunt, me following obviously, I found some interesting books in my bag. I, somehow, kept Aela from finding them, and was very surprised how different magic was from the game to Tamriel. In the game you just read a book, in Tamriel you get _options_. On the first page, some sort of 'link' was established between me and the book, and I had two choices; learn the spell instantly with it being a set thing, or read the whole book and learn it on my own. What that meant was basically a difference from the game to the fandom; in one every spell costs a set amount of magic and does a set amount of damage, and in the fandom you could 'overcharge' your spells to make them overpowered as fuck.

There were four spell books in my bag, as well as what equated to 'Magic for Dummies.' The spells were Healing, Flames, Silence, and something called Burn. I learned Burn first, because it was only about 30 pages. What it did was 'Burn' my magic up, very slowly. When it regenerated, after a few hours, I had slightly more. And by more, I mean if I had 100 point before, now I had 100.001 points. Wasn't worth it short term, in my opinion. The guide book was very helpful in explaining magic clearly, though.

In Skyrim different magic was used than in Cyrodil, and that went for every province on the continent. Skyrim magic, the book explained, was made like the Warriors that lived there; simple, strong, and not to be trifled with. It was separated into easy to remember categories that really explained themselves, but for a few exceptions. Destruction killed stuff, Restoration fixed stuff, Alteration changed stuff, Illusion played with stuff, Conjuration made stuff. It was pretty easy to remember, even before I got here.

It explained overcharging spells, which was basically if you use twice the magic, you go twice as fast. So it did what it was doing in a much shorter amount of time. The interesting thing was that there was no limit, no point at which you couldn't 'overcharge.' So if I had infinite magic, I could make Flames hotter than the core of the Sun.

Kinda scary, but it made me really want to cheat. I highly doubt the Alchemy-Enchanted Gloves-Enchanting-Smithing loop will work, but if it does... Oh shit, that would be cool.

Note to self: check out Enchanting.

All in all, I went from slightly-scrawny average teenager to kickass-werewolf explorer in a disturbingly short amount of time. I managed to get a look at myself in a pond and man... I was built like a brick shit house. Don't know how much that's me getting kicked around by the sexy Warrior Lady and how much is my werewolf stuff, but oh well.

I wonder if weight lifting would make me capital S Strong?

 **~Line-Break~**

The time came. It was emotional, Aela almost cried.

...

Ok, no one cried, but she did hit me with slightly less force. Slightly.

It was time for us to go our separate ways, away from each other. The time I spent with Aela was very enjoyable, for many, many reasons; not the least of which is how badass sexy she is. I'm not even skirting around it any more, I've got a thing for the redhead capable of bending steel.

The fact she's nine years older than me doesn't help, but damn if I can't dream! It's just so disappointing that I'll never-

I dove forward, suddenly, as an arrow flew just where my head was a moment ago. Instead of sliding forward on my stomach I used my arms to roll onto my feet, almost immediately throwing the rock I picked up as hard as I could at the archer. The rock, traveling three times faster than a major league pitcher could throw, was turned to dust by another arrow before it could get close to its target.

I took the time the rock bought me to close the distance between us, opening up with a Spartan kick that caught them in the gut, sending them back several feet. She got up almost instantly, a dagger swinging in one hand. I hunkered down in a block with my shield, using the shock running through her arm to let loose a right hook on her cheek, followed by a shield bash to the temple. The fist made contact, but pushed Aela out of the way of the bash, leaving me open to her double kick to my unarmored gut.

I flew back a few meters, wheezing, before spontaneously jumping up and kicking both legs out at chest height, knocking the wind out of her, and making me fall on my spine which hurt like hell.

We were both up at the same time, but the redhead managed to disarm me of my shield, breaking my arm in the process. I took the time to take out my kukri, the inward curving blade extremely sharp and deadly. I did a few shoulder-to-hip slashes that missed, before I was blindsided by a roundhouse kick that sent my vision blurry.

The last thing I saw was a fist heading straight to me.

 **~Line-Break~**

I woke up with a groan, not just of pain but also annoyance. This was how Aela 'trained,' she beat the shit out of me, and if I didn't learn she did it again. I admit, though grudgingly, the trial by fire took me to a level I thought impossible before in a very short amount of time. I really think if I was a normal human I would be dead a hundred times over.

I sat up, my aches and pains slowly becoming dull, easily ignorable throbs. I gave Aela, who was sitting on a stump, the meanest glare I could. She laughed. I brooded.

"One day, Aela, I'll be the one kicking ass." I said in my most serious tones.

Aela snorted. "Over my dead body, Whelp. You've got a lot of years before you get to my level." She said, completely serious. "I'm a member of the Circle, not some standard Merc."

"Alright, alright, I get it." I conceded exasperatedly. "Where are we going anyways? You're not going to dump be in the middle of nowhere before you go, are you?" I asked, somewhat fearfully. I wouldn't put it past her.

"No, Whelp, we are going to a village not far from here. Rorikstead, I think the name is." Aela replied. "I'm meeting another Companion there, and then you will go out." She said.

Suddenly, she turned around. The look in her eyes stopped me in my tracks, and I couldn't breath.

"But if I EVER hear that you went Feral, or abuse your powers, I will _kill_ you." She menacingly stated.

And then she continued walking, warning given. I took the respite to catch my breath, wondering where that came from. She didn't act like that in the game!

"Got it." I mumbled, mostly to myself.

I didn't see any buildings, but I could just barely make out tiny dots that seemed cow-shaped, so I guess we're still a few hours off, maybe less.

I gave Aela another glance, considering my options. I nodded, decision made.

 **~Line-Break~**

Our separation was... eventful. I refuse to remember most of it, keeping it vague to save myself any embarrassment. I will say this, however.

Nord's. Are. Big.

The person Aela met at Rorikstead? It was Farkas. He was six-and-a-half feet tall, with arms bigger than my torso. Very scary.

And he wanted to see how well I could hold my drink, to see if the 'whelp' that Aela spent 2 weeks with was any good.

I'm a teenager, so I've snuck a few drinks here and there. Beer, mostly, but I've had some sips of the stronger stuff. Let me tell you, Nord stuff, belongs to the Nord's. Even with my werewolf constitution, which was weaker than I expected for some reason, all it took was one mug and I was out. Gone.

I had fun, though. Not often you pick a fistfight with a Giant. Even less often you survive.

Note to self: my blunt force durability is ridiculous and inconsistent.

Anyway, what it came down to was Aela, Farkas and myself having a night only werewolves could have; that is, we got super drunk and beat the shit out of people, before going hunting. Thankfully, I don't remember much of the prep time for that, but when I shifted it was like and instant sober state.

That was... fun? Interesting, at least. Farkas was better than me, and I'm pretty sure Aela was better than him. Most of the night was them cutting loose, with me practicing my Beast Form.

When I woke up the next morning, Aela said goodbye and left with Farkas, leaving me alone in the inn with nothing but 30 gold, my knife, a shield, and some clothes.

Now what?

 **~Line-Break~**

 **Ok, done. What do you guys think? Got to admit, I hate this chapter so much, it's not even funny. I feel so inconsistent, flopping around. It's getting stupid, and I feel like if I don't stop this will turn into a crack fic.**

 **So yeah, kinda upset. Don't forget to review! And in your review, please add what you want Morgan to do next. Some examples I'm thinking of are Mercenary, Hunter, or just walking around. I kinda want to do a solid guild, but if I were there I would stay away from the ancient and dangerous things. Like the magic ball of death, or the Shadow Goddess, or the Vampire hunters. You see where I'm going with this?**

 **Till next time!**


	7. Chapter 7

**So sorry for how long this took. Happy belated holidays! I'll really try to get the next one out sooner.**

 **Also, I hated the last chapter. What the hell was I thinking? Oh yeah, let's let the teenage werewolf get smashed and go have a party!? Fuck that, I can't believe I did that. Plus it's so random and inconsistent. Ignore that that chapter actually happened and substitute it with what you wanted to happen. It'll be better than what I wrote. Gonna leave it up to remember my mistakes.**

 **As a side note, I got a PS4. With Skyrim SE. I've been distracted.**

 **~Line-Break~**

Well, that sucks. Apparently it's bad for business if random homeless teenagers stay past their welcome. In other words, I got kicked out.

With nothing holding me back, and Aela not here to watch me, I could go experiment without her questioning me. I wouldn't be that bothered by it, but it would be mildly inconveniencing to explain where I learned magic. I'm not stupid, books like that don't just appear in bags randomly.

Someone was watching me. Had an interest in me.

That was dangerous, and so I needed to learn my limits.

My mind made up, I set out into the wilderness, hoping my scent would keep most big predators away. Werewolves are top predators, right?

 **~Line-Break~**

"Okay, test one." I said to no one. Why was I talking out loud? Who cares.

"Flames," I spoke as I extended my arm out, palms facing upward, fingers slightly splayed. Instantly fire pooled into my hand, warm but not hot, flickering in between my fingers.

Alright, I'm holding fire. Fire that wasn't burning me, but was warm. I held it for a few minutes, concentrating on the feel of my magic pool. I didn't feel a drain from holding the fire. I slowly walked over to a small river, more of a stream. When I got to the edge, I looked deep into the water, before throwing my arm out, fingers spread. Instantly the candle in my hand became an inferno, a stream of fire that reminded me of the time I made a flamethrower out of a water gun, only ten times as hot. The moving water swallowed the flames, with clouds of steam rising up with the sound of boiling oil.

After I started to feel a drain on my reserves I stopped the spell. In the river before me, there was a massive hole where water wasn't flowing for a few seconds before the current swallowed it up. In only a few moments, the only sign I did anything at all was the dissipating steam cloud.

I looked at my hand, not burned at all, and with barely a thought I was holding fire again. "Well that's pretty damn awesome." I said to myself. "It's not Force Lightning, but I can take being a walking flamethrower. Only one last thing to test before I move on to the next one."

With that said, I grabbed a small branch, one end covered in thick moss, and held it in my left hand. My right hand, which I was holding the spell in, was extended away from me. Carefully, I placed the moss end of the stick into my burning hand, careful not to cast the spell. Despite the temperature I felt from the flame, the moss caught fire very quickly, and after only half a minute I held an improvised torch in my hand.

"So I can light fires without actually cast the spell, I just need contact. Can I cover my entire hand in fire, instead of just just my palms?" I asked myself. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the feeling of the spell. My magic seemed to be drawn to my hand, but wasn't being used. Slowly, with great care. I tried to spread where my magic went. From my palm, I started to cover my fingers, then the back of my hand, and finally past my wrist and a few inches onto my forearm. There was a very slight drain on my magic, nothing too great, but noticeable. I could hold whatever I was doing for a few minutes before I started to run low. Making sure I had a handle on the shape of my magic, I opened my eyes. A wide grin overtook my face at what I saw.

My entire hand, and a little bit of my arm, was covered in fire. I wasn't being burnt, and it reminded me of the flame cloak spell, only like a glove instead of a tornado. It was actively draining my magic, so I had a short amount of time to test this.

I quickly went over to a tree, keeping my mind on maintaining the shape of my magic, and when I got there I couldn't contain myself any longer. Using a portion of my strength, a little over full force had I been a normal human, I punched the tree. There was a dull thud as my fist impacted the trunk, but what drew my attention was the black scorch mark left over. Noticing that I was at half of my reserves, I quickly grabbed a fairly thick branch and started squeezing. I could feel the wood smoldering in my grip, and after only a few seconds I burned all the way through it. A wide smile overtook my face now, and I must have looked like an idiot.

My concentration broke, and with it the spell. Unfortunately, instead of just dying out, it shattered. With the sound of broken glass all the fire was suddenly digging into my skin while being dragged to my palm, where it poofed out of existent. It happened so fast that I was left staring dumbly at my severely burned hand. When the pain hit, I cast the healing spell, only to regret that. It was at least third-degree burns.

Slowly, I cast the spell with more care. My skin repaired itself, the burns fading away, and with it the pain.

I slowly flexed my hand, curling and uncurling my fist. My hand was pink with new skin, and suddenly I didn't want to test my fire fists for a while.

"I think I need a professional. Don't want to turn into a paste smeared across Tamriel. Yeah, let's do that."

 **~Line-Break~**

Wow. I really wish this was some kind of movie. If it was I wouldn't have to do _all of this walking!_

"HOW IS THE WORLD THIS BIG AND EMPTY!?" I shouted into the MASSIVE mountains surrounding me. Cue echo. Really, I'd left camp this morning, and it was almost night time! The 'real' version was much, _much_ bigger than the games interpretation.

I absently kicked a stone off the path as I walked.

Something fell on my nose. I lifted a hand to my face, confused at the wet feeling. I looked up and _oh_. I couldn't even see the sky it was so cloudy. How did it get that bad without my notice? Crap, I need shelter.

I looked around, there wasn't much. I was going to Markarth to get a carriage to Winterhold, and the entire region was mountainous and rocky. The last sign I saw was a while back and it didn't tell me how much farther the city was. I followed a bend in the path, looking around the area for shelter.

"Aahhhrrr!" Huh?

"Die die die!" What?

There was an explosion of thunder up ahead, along with the sound of screaming. Child screaming.

I bolted, moving as fast as I could, following the sounds. I vaulted a felled tree, moving slightly off the path. There was a cliff up ahead, maybe a dozen foot fall.

As I ran forwards I stretched my senses out. Time slowed down and all I could think was _what the hell?_ as I suddenly heard and smelled and _saw_ what was happening, without my eyes. There were six people in total; three men, two women, and a child. There were two corpses, reeking of burnt flesh and ozone.

As I got this information I reached the cliffs edge and did something monumentally stupid. So stupid, in fact, that I got flashbacks to the time I tried using a garbage bag as a parachute.

I jumped off the cliff. No, to say I jumped would be an understatement; I _leapt_ off the cliff. Midair, I saw the full picture as time seemed to slow to a crawl.

A mother was covering a kid, maybe 7 or 8, with her whole body while a man stood between them and a group of three people dressed in animal skins, both his hands sparking with volatile blue lightning. Travelers. There were two men and a woman, with the female holding a hand glowing blue with frost. Forsworn.

Again, I must have Protagonist level luck, because my trajectory brought me to the most dangerous member of the fanatics. What happened next was a blur.

As I fell closer, I grabbed the back of the mages head with my hand, knocking her off balance, and smashed her head into the ground as hard as I could, using her body to absorbs the shock. I tried to ignore the wet feeling on my hand as her head all but exploded.

With the Forsworn distracted, the man let loose with his charged lightning, and I only now realized the woman must have been blocking him. One of them, wielding duel war axes, took the overpowered blast center mass and was launched back into the cliff side with the sound of shattering bones and a fat guy doing a belly flop. The other guy, in the midst of dropping his bow to draw his own axe, got a full force right cross from me. His head was thrown violently to the side, and I almost felt bad for the amount of whiplash he probably felt. I got over it, however, as I got behind him and put him into a headlock, using my super strength to the fullest.

You know those video games where you can stealth takedown people, usually by snapping their necks? That's not how bones work. Sure, you could break someone's neck if you _really_ tried, but it's not the casual crunching and moving on like in movies and games. I could never do something like that; and isn't 'could' such a strange word?

With a sound akin to rolled up bubble wrap being stepped on the man I was choking out stopped struggling, giving one final, wet sounding cough before he died.

Shit, what happened to me? I was here for less than a month and I've already killed what, four people? Five? Is that the wolf instincts, or was I actually a sociopath? Questions for later, I decided, as I noticed the man hadn't put away the lightning.

By this point rain was falling, not yet at the storms peak but it wasn't drizzling either.

"Hey," I said as I held up my hands, palms facing me. "You guys okay?" I asked.

The man didn't put his hands down, but at least they weren't facing me anymore. Finally he answered. "Yeah," he said in a thick Nordic accent. "We would have died without your help. I'm in your debt." He finished that with a slight growl to his tone, one I only heard with my enhanced senses. Okay, so he doesn't like owing people? Weird. Crap, what if it's customs? I don't know even street etiquette!

"I just did what anyone would have done." Yeah right. Like anyone else would jump off a _cliff and smash someone's head into the fucking ground_. Judging by his expression, he must have shared my thoughts.

"You got shelter?" I asked, obviously changing the subject. "Rains all good, but I don't like standing around in it." Hopefully he won't mind me tagging along; I _did_ save their lives after all. "Sure, there's a cabin not too far from here." The man responded. "We were visiting family. We're from Helgen, where'd you say you came from?"

"I didn't," wow, that came out way more dickish than I intended. "You mind if I stick with you? Safety in numbers?" Please don't question the fact our numbers only went up one. And the fact I'm barely an adult, even by this time periods standards.

The man shared looks with his wife, but nodded nonetheless. His wife, a nice looking woman who suited holding a broom more than the sword in her hands, gave said weapon to her husband, who strapped it to his waist. Smart, play up the magic, leave the weapon to the semi-defenseless.

"Ahh, sorry. I'm Morgan. Who are you guys?" I asked a few minutes later. I almost had to shout the storm had gotten so bad.

"How about we do this at shelter!" There man replied, looking around for landmarks. Oh, yeah, that would be better than introductions in a storm.

Where's my fast travel cutscene damnit!

 **~Line-Break~**

"... ah, there it is." What? Why did I have the near crippling urge to say that?

"I'm sorry, what was that?" An accented voice asked me. I looked over to the speaker, a nice homely looking woman with blond-brown hair. She was looking at me, expecting a response.

"Sorry, just thinking aloud. Thank you for the shelter." I paused, considering. "And the mead." I waved the orange bottle in my hand. My resiliency was enough for me to handle a single bottle, and it really did warm me up. Apparently Farkas gave me the strong stuff.

She gave me a kind smile. "Oh, it's nothing! Really, if it wasn't for you we would be worse off." Here she visibly withheld a grimace, clutching the child closer to her body.

"I agree." A deeper voice said, coming to my left on the opposite side of the table. "You have our, have _my_ , thanks. My name is Rundi. This is my wife, Yisra, and our child, Borvir. You said your name was Morgan?"

"Yes." I said with a nod. "That's right. It's a nice house, thank you again for the hospitality. Haven't met too many good people since I've set out." I've only really met, I don't know, three people? Aela, Skjor, Farkus, those bandits, those Forsworn, and now this family. Not that many people, and about half of them wanted to kill me. Shit, that's bad.

"It's the least we could do. Now, I don't know about you but the storm and the fightings made me a bit tired. How about we finish this up in the morning?" Rundi said, ending with a slight yawn. Yisra looked haggard as well, like she was struggling to stay awake.

Oh yes, please! I'm terrible at talking to others and this will let me plan! "Sounds good. I get a mat?"

"There's a spare bed in that room over there."

"Thanks, I'll see you guys in the morning."

God, how is talking to people harder than killing them?

 **~Line-Break~**

 **Sorry, really sorry at how long this took vs its length. I mean, if I'm gone it should be longer; right? Anyways, like I said at the top, I got Skyrim SE, I've been distracted. Never played the DLCs before, and being a vamp is pretty fun.**

 **Review, leave suggestions, ask questions, blah blah blah. But seriously. Review.**

 **Review.**

 **Till next time!**

 **...**

 **REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry about the delay. Lost interest in this... I'll explain more at the bottom.**

 **(Yes, this is me trying to get you to read my stuff)**

 **~Line-Break~**

Names are hard.

Now this might just be me, but I'm horrible about remembering names. I only remember some of the Companions names because it's my favorite quest line. Anything else is just a big nope.

This, unsurprisingly, was not something unique to the game. I barely remember anyone's name. And I truly do mean everyone. The only names I can remember are mine, my close family (ignore that ache), and some of my friends; and even then it's mostly reflex.

One of the ways I get around this is to remain silent unless directly addressed. Of course I come off as an emo dickbag sometimes, but it's easier to deal with than everyone knowing you can't remember basic crap. And even then, adding in a 'dude' or a 'sure' instead of a name is acceptable.

With this knowledge it's pretty predictable how I dealt with that family.

 **~Line-Break~**

Holy shit, that was close. I only left the whoever's a few hours ago, taking along some of the stuff the dad gave me. It wasn't much, just a steel dagger and some leather boots.

Mine would be sorely missed.

Still, while I appreciated the kindness they showed me, I was still a socially awkward teenager in a fictional land. So, in the dead of night, I escaped with barely a whisper.

...

Ok, so I didn't. The dad caught me, and we had a very short chat. He was a competent magic user, and so had more tuned senses to the world. He couldn't really sense what I was, but knew it was dangerous.

Still, I saved his families life, so he owed me.

After traveling for about half an hour, I spent the next ten minutes checking my surroundings, even sending out tendrils of my magicka to sense stuff; something that really didn't work too well, but was better than nothing.

After securing the area, I undressed before stuffing all my belongings into a thick leather bag and transformed. It was easier this time, after some practice, and I easily left the area with barely a trace.

I traveled for a few hours, before I could see the sky clearing up for the sun and transformed back, getting dressed and armed again.

And then I found Markarth.

 **~Line-Break~**

Ok, so I didn't really find Markarth. It sorta found me. And by found me, it saved me. And by saved me, I mean the guards. From Forsworn.

Really, how was I even alive?

Sure they were low level bandits, but I wasn't some beefy hammer-smashing maniac with a few arrows sticking out of his skull. I was just an inhumanly buffed teenager with crappy facial hair.

And super strength, but I digress.

Still, I've never seen anything as terrifying as a bunch of half-naked men and women running at me screaming like the children of the corn. Or the hills have eyes. Haven't seen either of those movies in a long while.

The confrontation didn't go as bad as it could have been. My sensitive ears picked up a faint whistling noise, and so I hunkered down behind my crappy wood-and-leather shield I stole from that bandit a while ago. The three arrows that stuck out the other side were frightening.

Especially since they outlined my arm.

After they shot the arrows, 7 half naked men and women charged at me with stone and bone weapons. Very scary.

I, of course, reacted as anyone would have. I screamed like a bitch and threw stupid amounts of fire at them. Then I got shot in the chest with a fireball.

It hurt like a motherfucking truck. And it was fire. Pretty sure the only reason I lived was because of my werewolf-yness. Or being a 'Breton.' If that even changed anything

Anyways, after getting thrown into my ass by a cannonball of fire, I guess my screaming attracted the attention of some patrolling guards. They, of course, were slightly miffed about a bunch of savages attacking a teenager. They were also assigned to patrol for a reason, something I found out by watching the four guards steamroll over the opposition.

I took the distraction to use my limited healing spells, hoping that my natural healing would kick in soon. Fire hurt like, well, fire. Not a fun experience.

Keeping my head down, the golden glow from my healing spell alerted a large man in a loin cloth to my location. Breaking out into a sprint, he gave a roar as he charged me down while dual wielding stone hatchets. I responded with a roar of my own, allowing the smallest bit of my transformation to leak into my throat. Or I tried to anyways.

What I got actually sounded more like a bear than anything, and I felt more than just my throat change. My arms got a bit bigger, I had claws, and there was a bit more hair on my face than normal. I really should practice partial transformations before doing them. Fanfiction made me cocky!

Surprising me, the man charging me seemed to go faster instead of slowing down, his battle cry going from death-comes-to-you to I-will-crush-all-challenges. I felt my blood run hot at the thought of battle, and charged him as well. It wasn't until I was practically right next to him that I noticed his chest was cut open.

This was a Briarheart!? Fuck no! Those guys were hardcore! What was one doing all the way away from his boss-fight location? All these thoughts and more ran through my mind, even as I did a jump kick with both legs forward, simultaneously leaning my head back and away from his first axe swing. The second one surprised me, carving through my shirt and leaving a shallow cut on my chest.

My kick had launched him back a bit, but instead of shattering his ribcage like it should have, all I could see was a quickly forming bruise. He landed on his feet, but off balance. I took the few seconds I had to stand and do a quick healing-hand scrub at my chest, wiping away the gash there as well as the fatigue burning in my lungs.

This time when he charged, I tried to focus on his weapons more. Axes were a bitch to fight, being basically bladed hammers with serrated edges. You didn't need skill to be deadly. Knowing this, I called upon fire in my hands, but I didn't have enough time to coat my hands completely, and instead just started pouring magicka into the pools of fire in my palms, increasing their heat.

His first swing, an overhead shoulder-to-hip slice from his right axe, I dodged by moving left. His follow up left handed swing got a little too close for comfort, but I used that by grabbing his extended arm, quickly twisting his wrist and putting the undead in a crude arm lock. I started squeezing, the scent of burnt flesh rising to my nose, when the Briarheart did a full twist, almost breaking his arm, but escaped my grapple. He had dropped one of his axes, and seemed to regard me for a moment. The next second, he threw his remaining axe at me with a yell, charging with his fists.

I dodged the flying weapon easily, and as I stepping up to punch him right in his stupid plant heart...

A sword cut off his head. I blinked, feeling a small amount of blood splatter my face. Scowling in annoyance, I wiped it off with my sleeve, turning to face the sword wielder. It was a guard. And I used guard as a loose description, for this beast looked like he would fit in better with the Companions. He looked at me, helmet masking his expression while also protecting his entire skull. He leered, or at least I think he did; those masks were hard to read.

"I used to be an adventurer like you, then I took an arrow to the knee." Did really just say that? Holy...

I looked him over, and his exposed arms looked bigger than my torso; I wasn't scrawny, either.

"What kind of arrow? A ballista bolt?" I asked before I could stop myself. Damn, my instincts were still too strong. At least I got most of the physical changes down.

The guard chuckled, his deep voice and deeper accent making me feel a bit like prey. I didn't like it. "Ah, a sharp tongue to match your battle instincts. You'll be a very successful adventurer." He looked me over again, longer this time. "If you got some actual gear of course. Cloth, a dagger and a half-broken shield won't get you too far."

I gave a small grin at that. "Yeah," I said. "I'm gonna need some gear. I was actually headed to Markarth. You know the way?" I asked. He was a guard, he would know.

The guard, who I decided to call Throthgar, nodded. He looked over at the rest of his... Squad? Team? What do you call a detachment of guards? Oh, a detachment. Throthgar waved them over, and did a whisper conversation with them. I assume the monster was the leader, as the others deferred to him. After a minute or two, Throthgar came back. I pretended I didn't just hear that whole conversation.

"Our patrol is almost done, so I'm going ahead with you to Markarth while the boys here alert the rest of us at camp of what happened here." He looked at the Briarheart with disdain. "Briarhearts don't usually leave their settlements. I need to report this to the Jarl. I'll drop you off at Markarth."

"Thank you, I don't think I could take on anything right now." Here I waved my half-broken shield. "We leave now?" I asked.

Throthgar nodded. "Aye, we do. It's gonna be dark in a few hours, and we have a lot of ground to cover."

And so, the werewolf wanna-be wizard and the badass guard marched into the mountainous path.

 **~Line-Break~**

 **I'm disappointed in myself, this is pathetic. Really, I'm gone for 2 months and this is all I got done! Pathetic. Really, though, I'm not feeling this fic much... There are a few reasons, which I'll explain now:**

 **1: I never had a plot. Never. This really was just me going 'I wonder what would happen if...' And not thinking it through. I'm gonna be doing some hard thinking, making some stuff to build the fic better.**

 **2: I messed up. The timing for this was horrible. Did you know that since I made this fic, I've moved to a 3rd world country and am taking classes on another language? I just don't have the time for it anymore. Really, I need to be fluent in 3 months!**

 **3: I actually don't have another excuse. I will say that I have a low self esteem, and I got a negative review, but I honestly barely remember what it said. The guy who wrote it typed like the author of 'My Immortal.'**

 **So yeah. Hiatus. Don't kill me to hard. I'm not gonna be redoing the previous chapters, because I need my mistakes and crappy writing there to remind me how much I suck. What I will be doing is making a new chapter; hopefully one with 15K+ words, over the next few months.**


End file.
